Burns: [sadly] Simpson, I am by most measures a successful man. I have
wealth and power beyond the dreams of you and your clock-punching
ilk. And yet, I've led a solitary life. The fair sex remains a
mystery to me. You seem to have a way with women, [gets up and
stares out his window] a certain, how should I put it... Animal
magneteasmuh [sic]. [begging] Help me Simpson, tell me your
secret.
Homer: Uh, Mister Burns, in spite of what everybody thinks, I'm no
loverboy.
Burns: [pleasantly] Simpson, I'm asking you nicely...
Homer: I don't really know, sir.
Burns: <Simpson!>
Homer: Well oh, wine 'em... Dine 'em...
Burns: [listens attentively]
Homer: Bring them flowers.. Write them love poetry... sir.
Burns: Of course! It's simplicity itself! I won't forget this Simpson.
[angrily] Now return to your work!... and tell no one of what
transpired here.
-- It'll be our little secret, "Homer's Night Out"
